A Disease Called Love
by NekoJinDriger
Summary: just a KaiXRei ish story. what happens when you keep love bottled up inside? xxxxx Dallas


ENJOY!! all in Rei's P.O.V

(PROLOGUE) 

All I have ever done is love him, why has it turned out like this? I have cared about him, not stopped thinking about him, been his shoulder to cry on and now look where it's got me: tears; heart ache and a bottle of pills which stop me from going over the edge. He doesn't know that it is him doing this to me, of course not, but he does know how I feel. I guess he does it deliberately, telling me about his activities with others. Why can he not see what he is doing to me?

He doesn't even know I'm medicated or that I cry myself to sleep each night because I can't stop thinking about him and cursing the fact that we can never be together.

The only way I can make him believe that I'm ok is to pretend that I'm not me, pretend that I'm not infected by this deadly disease called love. Maybe it would be better if I left, moved on, but I have told myself that many times, I know all I need is more will power, or possibly somewhere, or someone, to run to.

My guitar lies in the corner of my room, he asked me to teach him how to play, but I can't, not now. I don't know how I would be able to cope watching his face cloud with concentration, just like whenever he is concentrating, weather it is learning how to use a new phone or learning new beyblading tactics.

I don't even know what it is about him that I find so amazing, he's just like a normal guy, but only one of my best friends! I remember when I first met him, after I got to know him a bit, I just thought 'wow', and I don't really know why. Is there anything wrong with me?

I remember all of the old times. We used to spend ages in each others company, enjoying the time and not noticing it fly past us. I would give anything for them to return.

My feelings for him have gone beyond upsetting and angering me now, I have started to ignore him and he hasn't even noticed, I'm finding excuses not to talk to him, but I'm not doing this on purpos the words just seem to slip out of my mouth with out me thinking about it. I don't even think he would notice if I went away or stopped being his shoulder to cry on, I would do this, but I just don't want to turn into a heartless bastard...well more of one. But maybe it would be better if I left, maybe I would stand a better chance of moving on but it is all just maybe's and what if's now, I could never bring myself to leave him, and I know that if I did leave, I would be leaving my heart behind as well. I know I can't carry on like this though, having my heart break every time I see him, not being able to sleep as he is all I think and dream about. I can't carry on like this.

These dreams are so misleading though, I hate them when they show my subconscious images and montages of him holding me in his arms, us holding hands as we walk down the street and him kissing me and telling me he loves me but I also love these dreams. I just wish they were reality. I know they never will be either.

Would you ever like to feel like this, so desperate to have your feelings returned to you by the one you love, would you hate the curse of dreams which haunt your subconscious, would you like to be like this, like me? I thought not.

He hasn't even noticed my silence and it has been weeks now. They have even upped my medication after noticing the scars on my arm, it was lucky that they couldn't make out the initials that have now been covered with newer, deeper cuts. They say that I need to talk about my 'problems' but I know that I can't, if I told him that I still love him, or if he found out, he would probably hate me.

I think he knows now that something is wrong, he is making an effort to talk to me, comfort me but it isn't doing any good, if anything it is making this whole thing even worse. But now that he is making the effort, there isn't a single second of the day or night when he isn't on my mind or I'm dreaming of him holding me in his arms. I have now gone past the point of caring about taking my medication or caring if I cut too deep, I would do anything to stop thinking about him, even if it does mean death...

The doctors, they say I should get my feelings out through writing, lacing the truth into the words of fiction, but where to start? Should I start with my feelings for my dear friend, or go back to the beginning of when it all started?

All of this seems a bit to much, just to let him know how I feel, I mean, all it should really take is three simple words and then be done with it, but to tell him indirectly, I guess that is another long drawn out process of my inner most feelings and emotions. I can't do that, to tell him how I truly feel again would take too much, he would never understand, but then again, no one ever does.

Most people say love is such a great thing, but it isn't, it's a deadly disease that will willingly eat you whole given the chance, just as it has done to me and so many others. I would love to say that everyone has a happy ever after, but they don't, no one ever sees what goes on behind closed doors or blacked out windows. Behind them, you get the love that is suffered by many, suffered by me, you get the longing to reach out and touch that one person who means the world to you and hold them in your arms, a smile on your face, behind them you receive the love from the black little hearts who do nothing but create wounded hearts and wounds only to pour on the salt and watch in glee, a wide illuminating smile on their smug faces.

(HOW IT BEGAN)

Well it was nearly three years ago, now I think about it, three long years. Wow. In a way it's kinda hard to believe that we are still speaking to each other, I normally find some way to screw things up, one way or another, losing an address or phone number to just generally pissing someone off, it's always me who does that, that's why it's such a surprise to me that we are still talking.

It was a friend of mine who first introduced us, it's a shame we don't really talk anymore, I would like to thank him for introducing us, and to tell you, yes you were right all those years ago when you said that I liked him, you were right.

I guess that if we had got together then, it would have been the perfect holiday romance, but then I doubt that we would still be talking to each other now. I remember that day well, it was quite hot, the perfect temperature I guess and I was just doing what I normally did, stand around and avoid social confrontation. Back then I used to hate talking to people in general, especially new people. I still dont really know what made me speak to him when my friend introduced us; I guess it was just manners. In a way I guess we just clicked, got on, I dont really know, but it made my holiday that much better because he was there.

We all had so much fun together, me, my friend and him. I remember all of the silly little things that we would do just to kill time, all of the jokes that we would share and all the secret glances that I sent his way. It made time fly by so quickly, it makes me wonder where all of that time went.

The one thing that really stuck in my mind was our good bye, normally, as in when I keep my distance from reality and social situations, I'm fine, I say good bye, leave and that is that. Not this time. I guess that's what I get for trying to be happy and get involved with people. When that dreaded time came, for us to say good bye, I cried, they weren't just tears in my eyes though, they were full on streams cascading down my cheeks. Then he hugged me and this strange feeling took over my entire body, I had never felt like that before. I felt whole. Complete, what ever you want to call it, I felt as if my soul had finally found its partner, as cheesy as it sounds. I didn't feel right when we went our separate ways, I felt as though I was only half left. I felt empty.

All the way home, I couldn't help but think about my newly departed friend, and now I talk about him as if he were dead, it's not really something I want to think about, him not being here. All the way back he would send me messages which I would read and then wish I was back in his arms.

(THE PAST)

Even if we hadnt kept in touch, I would have still remembered him, hes just one of those people that you could never forget, he has one of those faces that always stick in the back of your mind.

Whenever I would receive a letter from him, this stupid grin would cover my face as if a clown had suddenly taken over my body, no matter what mood I would have been in, a letter or a phone call from him would always brighten my mood. We used to be able to spend ages on the phone, talking for hours on end about nothing in particular and not a moments silence, they were the good times. They were before I screwed things up, but I guess it was only a matter of time.

I guess it first started when our convocations met an end and neither of us knew what to say next and there would just be silence. Not awkward, just silent. Then I made the biggest mistake, I told him how I felt, I poured my heart out to him letting him know how much I truly care for him and wanted to be with him. As soon as I told him I knew that it had been a mistake, but its like time, you cant go back on your words.

It was a week before I heard back from him, and it was the longest week ever, and Im not exaggerating. After we talked about it, I was sad, I didnt want to stay as just friends I wanted to mean more to him, I wanted to mean as much to him as he meant. And still means to me.

Things slowly got back to normal, well as normal as things could be, yet our phone calls were forever plagued by these silences that always appeared, I tried so hard to fill them, yet I never could. They kept rearing their ugly heads.

There have been times when I think that there could easily be more to us than just friends yet every time I get my hope up, he tares them as if they were made of tissue paper. At times his words go round my head and I wonder why we arent together, but now I know that things could never be.

I cant believe that I am trying to ignore him, avoid his calls. Im even making excuses to myself as to why Im making our phone calls short and signing off the computer whenever he is online. What happened to us, just because I love you, it doesnt mean that things have to change between us, does it?

(THE FUTURE?)

"What is there left for me?" Silence on the other end of the line and a heart that doesnt know if the love it holds will ever be recuperated. If so, I dont want it, I dont want to live through any more hurt and pain, I cant. I know that if I repeat my declaration of love to him, I will just face the same disappointment of last time. I cant do this anymore. I have to end it now, before all of this gets too out of control, before I have the chance to screw things up again, before I ever have the chance to be happy

His scared arms reached out for the tablets on the shelf, collecting as many of the snow white pills as he could, piling them up in his arms, leaving one hand free so that he would be able to keep a tight hold of the vodka bottle that was currently resting on the side, half of its content already burning the insides of his throat. After collecting as much as he could, he moved to the one place he knew he would be safe and most of all, he wanted to be in the place that he spent so many nights on the phone to his love or crying into his pillow due to the lack of care and love he received from him.

Taking another swig from the bottle, he sat down on her bed, resting the pills and alcohol on his bed side table, creating a pile of pale death pills. He couldnt wait to end his life. He took one last gulp of vodka before he took a handful of tablets and putting them all in his mouth. Taking another swig of that precious liquid, he swallowed them all. After what seemed like ages, the pile slowly disintegrated into nothingness.

Eventually his pulse began to slow and his eyelids began to grow heavy, he knew his system couldnt take much more, but he saw the remaining three in front of him, whats the point in wasting them he thought morbidly as he piled them into his hand and swallowed them dry.

His pulse got even slower, as his eyes began to find it unbearable to stay open. They struggled open one last time, and saw the world he longed to leave change. Just as his eyes closed for the last time, he whispered to his loved one; "Im sorry that I loved you" and then he died. 


End file.
